Tattoos
by J. Nebula
Summary: Slightly AU two-shot showing various characters finding out about Harry's tattoos. Slight canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series is the property of J.K. Rowling. I do not earn any monetary profit from this work.**

 **Author's Note: This is a two shot about Harry getting tattoos as tributes. It has a bit of Harry/Ginny romance, and possibly other canon pairings, but it's mostly gen.**

 **Chapter One:** Dragons and Prints

"Hey, Ginny, how'd you know about the Horntail tattoo?" Harry asked that night, after their conversation on vexing Romilda Vane.

"Wait, you actually have a tattoo?" Ginny asked, an incredulous look on her face. "When did you get it?"

It was an average morning at the Dursleys. Harry was sitting in his room, moping before he would be bullied into performing his daily chores. The Department of Mysteries fiasco had occurred less than two weeks before, and Harry was still depressed over Sirius' death.

Harry's musings were interrupted by his uncle's strangled shout of, "Boy! Get down here, now!"

The young wizard quickly put on the pair of clothes he had that smelled the least and scrambled down the steps. Standing in the doorway was a tall, muscular man with dark hair and brown skin and with a scowl who looked to be very uncomfortable in his jeans and tee-shirt. Next to him stood a stunning woman with a golden complexion, sapphire eyes, and platinum hair wearing a flowing ivory sundress. Harry suddenly wished that he had put on nicer clothes.

"Fleur, Krum, what are you doing here?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. "Sorry, come in."

Uncle Vernon spluttered as two people, who were both foreign and magical, stepped into his home. Fleur and Krum paid him no mind as they moved into the entry way, and Harry was slightly amused.

"We were both in town for the Order and we wished to see our fellow champion," Fleur said, her English much better than the last time Harry had heard her, but still accented.

"Ve vanted to do something to honor Cedric, and we thought you vould like to come with us," Krum corrected.

Harry's throat tightened, as it always did when Cedric was mentioned, even a year later. He cleared his throat and said, "Of course. Should I change first?"

Krum shrugged, but Fleur replied in affirmative, so Harry ran upstairs to find his best fitting muggle clothes. Luckily, they were clean. He also grabbed his money pouch and wand, just in case.

When they walked outside, Harry saw an old BMW in the driveway behind Uncle Vernon's company car.

As they got in the car and Fleur started to navigate the roads with little effort, Harry asked, "Where'd you learn how to drive?"

"My father is, how you say, a muggleborn. He taught me after I finished the Tournament," Fleur said.

Harry wondered if someone would ever teach him to drive. Remus was a halfblood who spent a lot of time in the muggle world, so maybe he would teach him, or maybe Tonks. Harry knew that Sirius had had his license, but he stopped that thought with a pang.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, as they drove into London after a few minutes.

"We're here," said Krum, looking queasy. Harry thought it strange that he could maneuver a broom so expertly, but got carsick.

They were standing outside a seedy building with multiple neon signs in the window. The one that said 'OPEN' was blinking ominously, and the cursive 'Piercings' was not comforting. Harry was intrigued, however, by the matching blue 'Tattoos' sign. Sirius had had many tattoos, and ever since, Harry had wanted one.

They entered the tattoo parlor to see a large man covered in ink and piercings standing at the counter, wearing a black vest and sunglasses. His name tag said 'Don'.

"Delacour?" Don asked.

"That would be me," Fleur said.

"Your friend is a little young," Don said.

Harry felt indignant. He had seen things that would make people twice, three times his age cower in their boots and come out alive. He was old enough to get a tattoo.

"He has fought dragons and You-Know-Who. I think he can handle some ink," Krum said, surprising Harry. Not only because he was standing up for Harry, but also because he hadn't known that the tattoo artist was a wizard.

Don nodded. "I got your request. I assume the dragons will correspond with the ones each of you fought?"

Fleur nodded, and Don brought out some designs. There were three different designs for each dragon. Fleur chose one in flight for her back, Krum chose one that twisted around his bicep, and Harry chose a roaring one, shooting flames. Harry would have chosen one for his arm, but he didn't want the chance that Hermione or Mrs Weasley would see it.

"Can I see it?" Ginny asked.

"Miss Weasley, are you asking to see my chest? I'm shocked at you," Harry said teasingly before he removed his robe to reveal muggle clothes beneath.

Ginny playfully smacked him on the arm before urging him to show his tattoo.

It was a masterpiece. An ebony Hungarian Horntail perched on one of Harry's ribs, tail sweeping across his stomach, blowing flames across his right pec. The dragon gleamed against Harry's slightly pink skin which the artist had just healed, and he was struck with one thought.

"That was nowhere near as bad as I expected," Harry told the tattoo artist, a young woman named Jay, whose arms were sleeved in ink.

"You took it better than I expected. A lot of people cry," Jay said.

Cry? Over a tattoo? Maybe if he hadn't experienced a basilisk bite or a few bouts under Voldemort's Cruciatus, but certainly not now.

"Anything else I can help you with? You'd look good with an earring," Jay said.

Harry thought about it. While Bill's earring was certainly cool, he didn't want Hermione to kill him, or Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to throw him out. However, he had been thinking about another tattoo idea for a while.

"No way," Ginny said as she looked up from admiring the dragon on Harry's chest. "You have another one?"

Harry turned around to reveal a cluster of animal prints, one hoof and two paw prints, on his shoulder blade. Underneath them were the words "Mischief Managed" in flowing black script. It looked quite nice against his sepia skin.

"That's really nice. I assume the deer hoof is for your dad, the dog paw is for Sirius, and the wolf paw if for Professor Lupin?" Ginny commented.

"Yeah, Sirius had a similar one, but of course his included the traitor, and said, 'Marauders Forever' instead," Harry said.

"Harry, I don't want to talk about Sirius' tattoos right now," Ginny said, capturing Harry's lips in a strong kiss as she stroked the ink on his shoulder blade. The two teens lost themselves in each other for hours.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for leaving all of you fabulous readers waiting for this update for over a year, but I just haven't had much muse for this story. I know this chapter isn't as good as the first, but I hope you enjoy the Weasley family bonding (that includes Hermione and Harry, by the way). I might come back with a third chapter, or I might just leave it as is, I don't know yet. Oh, and disclaimer is in the first chapter!**

 **Chapter 2:** A Flower Garden and a Star-filled Night

Harry had been sneaking off for months after the war, and he always wore long sleeves, even in the sweltering heat. Molly and Hermione were suspicious.

It was a blistering day during early July, the hottest day of the year so far. Everyone was sweating, and the Weasley boys had long since shed their shirts and changed into swim trunks to go swimming in the pond. Harry, however, uncharacteristically refused to join them.

"At least change into a tee shirt. You're going to get heat stroke," Molly begged.

Harry refused yet again, and other than Molly's sighs of frustration, that was that. That is, until Harry's sleeve slid up while passing the potatoes during lunch, and Hermione's eyes zeroed in on his arm like a hawk.

"Harry, is that a tattoo?" Hermione asked dangerously.

Harry, though hearing the danger in Hermione's tone couldn't resist. "Technically, it's a lot of tattoos," he sassed.

"Oh boy, here we go," Bill muttered, remembering his mother's tirade when he came home with runic tattoos and a fang earring. At least he didn't get his sleeve done like Harry seemed to have.

"Harry James Potter, you have tattoos? Do you realize how irresponsible that is? What if the job you apply for doesn't accept people with tattoos? What if your future girlfriend doesn't like them? What will Teddy think when he's old enough? What if they warp when you get older?" Molly ranted.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, I happen to have quite a few. I did my homework this time, so I don't think that it's irresponsible. I plan on being an Auror, which accepts tattoos, or managing my family finances if that doesn't work out, where I will be my own boss. I'd like to think that I wouldn't date a girl who judges people on appearances. As for Teddy, I assume that he'll think the same thing about the ink on my skin as he does the fact that his hair changes—that it looks cool and is just something he's grown up knowing. When it comes to the warping, well, they're magical tattoos, so they'll adjust to my skin," Harry answered.

Mrs. Weasley sputtered. He had just dismantled her arguments so expertly, and other than her personally thinking that spending money on putting pictures on one's skin was a waste of time and money, she really had no more complaints.

"Did he just win a fight with Mum?" Charlie whispered.

"I think so," George replied.

Clearly this feat was more impressive to the Weasley siblings than Harry's defeat of Voldemort. None of them could remember ever beating their mother in an argument.

"I still don't understand what would possess you to get tattoos in the first place," Hermione told Harry.

"I wanted to honor those who died. What's not to get?" Harry retorted.

"How is scarring your body purposely honoring the dead?" Hermione asked skeptically.

Harry pulled up his left sleeve to reveal a garden of flowers of different kinds and colors. Most prominent was a yellow lily curling down Harry's wrist. It was chaotic and beautiful, and the whole table stared.

"Each flower is for a person who died in the First War," Harry said quietly.

He then pulled up his right sleeve, showing off hundreds of white stars, contrasting excellently with his brown skin. The effect was mesmerizing.

"Every star is for a person who died in the Second War," Harry said in the same tone.

"They're beautiful," Ginny whispered from her spot, and the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione had to agree.

"Well, I suppose that's understandable," Hermione acquiesced.

"Do you have any other ones?" Ron asked. He was obviously interested. Perhaps he wanted to get one as well.

"Yeah," Harry answered, pulling his shirt over his head.

Harry had filled out since the end of the war, given reliable access to food and less stress. While still thin, he was no longer emaciated and now covered in lean muscle. His skin glowed healthily, and was peppered with marks. There were of course, the dragon and the 'Mischief Managed' tattoo, but there were also two Ginny had never seen before.

"What are the ones that weren't there last time?" Ginny queried.

"Last time? When did you see Harry without a shirt?" Bill demanded.

"My fifth year, now quiet," Ginny shushed him.

Blushing at the glares he was receiving from the Weasley brothers, Harry hastened to explain.

"They aren't really tattoos. They're scars," Harry admitted.

Pointing to something that looked like a whitened circle with lightning bolts escaping from it over his heart, Harry said, "The circle is from Slytherin's Locket, and the lightning bolts are from the Killing Curse."

Everyone looked slightly uncomfortable at the mention of such horrible things, but Harry continued, gesturing at a triangle with a circle in its center, bisected by a line, that was situated on his hip. "This showed up when I woke up after the Final Battle, and I haven't been able to find any of the Deathly Hallows since, so I assume they became part of me or something."

Ron lightly slapped the back of his head. "Why didn't you tell us this before?"

Discomfort welled within Harry. "I didn't want to worry you."

"I have a right to worry. You're my best mate and weird shite keeps happening to you," Ron said.

"Sorry," Harry apologized.

"You don't have to apologize, just stop trying to hide things from us because you think we'll be upset. We're your family. We are here to help you." Ron rolled his eyes.

Harry smiled at Ron in gratitude, and everyone went back to eating.


End file.
